


Show Me What You've Got

by MimiWritesHerFandoms



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drinking, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 05:13:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9420209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiWritesHerFandoms/pseuds/MimiWritesHerFandoms
Summary: Dean meets the reader at a hunter's bar and they hit it off.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written in Dean's POV.

Christ, she was hot. Really hot. Not in that “my shorts are really short and my cleavage is on display” way I had been attracted to when I was younger, but more in the “I’m kind of a badass and I know it” way. Made her kind of irresistible.

I’d noticed her as soon as she’d come through the door, dressed to the nines, heels, skirt, but with a blood stained army jacket thrown over her clothes, a gun tucked in the back of her skirt and a small knife strapped to her thigh beneath the skirt, a thigh I’d had the good fortune of glimpsing when she'd climbed on the barstool to sit down. She’d ordered a whiskey, ran a hand over her face, and swallowed it down. I had been impressed.

It hadn’t taken me long to make my way across the bar and onto the stool beside her. Ten minutes later she was turned my direction, her knee pressed to mine, an open, inviting smile on her face. We exchanged names, we talked, both of us flirting shamelessly, completely aware of where the night was taking us. Two lonely hunters in a bar, looking for companionship. It was a song and dance I’d gone through dozens of times.

It was early, not even ten, definitely not time to quit drinking for the evening, so we made our way to the pool tables. She tossed her jacket on a nearby chair, rolled up her sleeves, and took a seat, feet propped on another chair. She gestured to the table with the bottle of beer in her hand.

“Show me what you’ve got, handsome,” she purred.

I chalked up the pool stick, already cocky about the win I was sure to get. The guy I was playing was a tool, young, overly muscled, tank top, flip flops on his feet, a backwards baseball cap, and the need to flex his gym and steroid built barbwire tattoed bicep every few minutes. It was obvious he wasn’t a hunter, just a guy that had picked the wrong night to come into a hunter’s bar. He was an easy mark. I’d let him win the first one, maybe two, then I’d make him eat chalk and run the table. It would be almost too easy to take his money.

I was about take my first shot when she called my name. I leaned over her at the table, giving her my best smile.

“What’s up, sweetheart?”

She wrapped her hand around the back of my neck, stretched up, and placed an utterly amazing kiss on my lips, biting the lower one just before she pulled away.

“Good luck,” she whispered, her right eye dropping in a seductive wink.

“Fuck,” I grumbled under my breath. Good thing I was throwing the first game, because all the blood in my brain had just rushed to my dick and I was not going to be able to concentrate.

The first game went exactly as I expected, exactly as I wanted. I slapped another fifty bucks on the table, intent on losing one more, hopefully this time worse than before. I was happy to let Y/N distract me, too, it helped with the illusion of inadequacy I was building. She’d moved to sitting on the edge of the table, her legs crossed at the ankle, her skirt hitched up high enough that I could see the tip of the knife’s sheath. I wanted to slide my hands under that skirt, feel her soft skin, twist my fingers in the underwear she was wearing and get them off of her.

Yeah, she was definitely distracting me.

Of course, she was distracting the tool I was playing, too. He kept checking her out, eyeing her up and down, looking down the front of the blouse she’d unbuttoned a little bit, inching closer and closer to her after every shot. He barely managed to pull it together long enough to win.

“Alright,” I said, pulling the asshole’s attention away from Y/N, “I’m probably making a mistake, but I want one more shot.” I reached in my pocket, pulled out my wallet and the cash stuffed in it, a couple hundred dollars. I dropped it to the table. “This, plus what we’ve already bet on one last game. Winner gets it all.”

The tool glanced over at Y/N, gave her a lecherous grin, and nodded agreeably. “Winner gets it all.” He winked at her, earning himself a dirty look.

“Rack ‘em,” I said, before stepping between Y/N’s legs, putting my hands on her hips, and catching her lips in a deep, long kiss. Her arms slipped around my waist, her fingers sliding under the edge of my shirt, cold on my warm skin. I was beginning to think maybe I didn’t need that money.

“Go kick his ass,” she whispered as she pulled away. “Wipe that smug look off of his face. The faster you do, the sooner we can get out of here.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I grinned. I spun the pool cue twice, stepped up to the table and took the shot.

It took me less than ten minutes to run the table. When I was finished, I dropped the cue to the table, scooped the money up, and shoved it in my pocket.

“What the fuck?” the tool growled.

“Dumb luck, I guess,” I shrugged.

“Bullshit,” he muttered, dropping his pool stick to the floor and lunging for me.

Y/N stepped between us, her hands up. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she smiled. “Take it easy. There’s no reason to get upset.”

“He hustled me,” the guy snapped. “I’m gonna kick his fucking ass.”

If I’d been able to hold back the snort of laughter, the chaos of the next few minutes wouldn’t have happened. But I couldn’t. The next thing I knew, Y/N was hitting the floor, and the asshole was bouncing a glancing blow off of my chin, a blow I barely felt. Typical. No power behind the punch, though it was enough to knock me back a couple steps. I laughed again, planted my feet and gestured to him to bring it.

He jumped, his intent to tackle me, but I sidestepped him, turning on my heel, watching as he slammed into a table with his shoulder, knocking it and several chairs to the floor. He pushed himself to his feet and swung around, lunging for me again. Just before he got to me, I felt a hard punch to my kidneys, a punch that drove me to my knees, cursing under my breath. Knowing another punch was coming, I rolled to my back and scrambled backwards, before jumping to my feet. I reared back and landed a punch directly on the tool’s face, knocking him on his ass. His hands flew to his face, blood gushing from his nose, a wounded whimper coming from him.

I turned to see who had sucker punched me in the kidneys, ready to take whoever it was down, but instead I saw Y/N sidekick the tool’s friend in the head, sending him to his knees, before she landed a blow to his chin, knocking him out cold.

Christ, she was hot.

“Alright, Winchester, take off,” the bartender chuckled as he walked our way. “Before pretty boy here wakes up and wants to file charges.”

I chuckled and threw some cash, far more than necessary, on the table while Y/N grabbed her things, then I took her hand and we rushed out of the bar, both of us laughing. We hurried around the side of the building to where I’d parked the Impala. I leaned against her, my hands on Y/N’s hips, pulling her close.

Y/N pressed herself against me, her jacket falling to the ground as she wrapped her arms around me, rose up on her toes, and kissed me. She sighed as she pulled away, a small smile on her face.

“I like your car,” she whispered. “You should take me for a ride.”

* * *

By the time we got to my motel, I was hard enough to cut glass, achingly hard. Y/N had kept her hand on my leg the entire trip, slowly moving it up my thigh until her hand was resting on my cock, squeezing and caressing, her lips against my ear, whispering all of the things she wanted me to do to her once we were in my room.

I gnawed on my lower lip, holding back the groan I knew was coming, desperately trying to concentrate on my driving rather than the overwhelming need I had to get this woman out of her clothes and in my bed. Baby’s tires squealed as I rounded the corner too fast, parked her across two parking spots, and slammed her into park. I lunged for Y/N, crushing her against my chest, our lips crashing together, all tongues and teeth and desperation. I pushed my hand between her legs, beneath her skirt, my palm pressed against her, my fingers twisting in her already damp panties.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” I growled.

“Inside. Now,” she moaned, pushing her hips down on my hand, her hands tightening on my shoulders.

I nodded and shoved open the door, her hand in mine, pulling her after me. It took less than thirty seconds to get the motel room door open and closed again behind us, and thirty seconds after that her skirt and blouse were on the floor, my shirt on the chair and my jeans unbuttoned.

I took a step back, my eyes moving hungrily up and down her body, the crisp white bra and matching panties with just a little bit of lace, flesh colored stockings, her knife still in its sheath around her perfect thigh, her lips kiss swollen, her cheeks flushed pink. I toed off my boots and pushed off my jeans, and took a step toward her.

“Uhn uhn,” she shook her head. “Sit.” She pointed at the bed.

I sat on the edge of the bed, watching her. She made a show of removing the knife and sheath, and sliding her stockings down her legs, her fingers dragging across her skin. The thought of my lips on her skin instead of her fingers made my mouth water. She grinned, a wicked grin, because she knew what she was doing to me, knew that she was torturing me, knew what I was thinking. She fell to her hands and knees and crawled toward me, watching me, her tongue in the corner of her mouth, her eyes never leaving mine.

She came to a stop between my legs, put her hands on my thighs, and pushed them apart. She mouthed my cock, still trapped behind the thin cotton of my gray boxers.

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re killing me,” I moaned.

She cupped my balls, caressing them carefully as she dipped a finger in the front of my boxers and pulled them down, her tongue flicking out and running down the length and back up, swirling around the head before she sucked it between her lips. I groaned, falling back on my forearms, watching her head bob up and down as she fucked me with her mouth. I couldn’t stop my hips from coming up off of the bed, pushing my cock deeper down her throat.

It seemed to spur her on, her hand tightening around the base of my dick, her head moving faster and faster, the sounds coming from her downright obscene, but Jesus Christ, they were fucking hot. I wasn’t sure I could hold on much longer.

“Y/N,” I growled. “Get your ass up here.”

She released me and crawled up my body. I couldn’t wait, pulling her into my arms and flipping her to her back, swallowing the sound of her laughter as I covered her mouth with mine. I used my knee to push open her legs, running my hand up her inner thigh, my lips sliding down her jaw. I grabbed a condom from the box on the bedside table and put it in her hand.

She wrapped a leg around my upper thighs, pulling me closer, her hand between our bodies, sliding the condom down my hard length. She guided me to her wet entrance, her hips rising to meet mine, her lips pressed to my ear, begging me to fuck her. I was happy to oblige.

I eased into her, taking my time, wanting to savor every second of the connection. She laced her fingers with mine, her hand on my ass, moving with me as I rocked into her. She was tight, amazingly, perfectly tight, and it felt fucking fantastic.

God, she was perfect; the way she moved, the way she smelled, the taste of her skin, all of it. I took my time, making it last, dragging it out. Y/N was writhing beneath me, gasping and moaning, her eyes squeezed shut, her head thrown back, gorgeous, obscene sounds falling from her lips.

She came with a loud cry of my name, her legs tightening around me, her nails scratching long welts in my back, her pussy clamping around on my cock, drawing a loud groan from me as I came.

“Fuck,” I grunted, burying my face in the crook of her shoulder.

She giggled again, wrapping both of her legs and her arms around me, her lips on mine, kissing me.

“You keep that up and we’re gonna have to go for round two,” I chuckled.

“Mmm, show me what you got, handsome,” she sighed, pulling me back to her lips.

* * *

I woke up to an empty bed, an empty room. I pushed myself up and sat on the edge, my bad knee aching, my lower back sore, a smile on my face. Clothes were strewn across the floor, empty beer bottles littered the table, a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses - one with lipstick stains - were on the floor beside the bed, along with an empty box of condoms.

Across the room, her name and phone number were scrawled on the large mirror in bright red lipstick. On the bureau beneath it was a cup of coffee and a bag from the diner across the street.

Christ, she was hot.

 


End file.
